The Green Dragon
by WhiteravenGreywolf
Summary: Lexa knew she should have listened to Tyrion when he told her going to war with a clouded mind was not a good idea, even if it was to wage war against bandits. Now she was wounded and stuck at Clegane's Keep until her Unsullied had finished the job without her. But it's okay because her handmaiden happens to be a beautiful blonde with bright blue eyes. Post-canon Game of Thrones AU
1. Lady Storm

A/N: Hi guys! So, just a quick warning about this story. First, its lore heavy, and by that I mean if you're not familiar with Game of Thrones you probably won't understand a damn thing about what is going on. Also, it's post-canon, that means spoiler alert (just in case) for seasons 1-7 and since season 8 isn't out yet I used my own headcannons and theories to fill in the blanks. If you have any questions, just leave a comment or PM me, I'll be happy to explain. Alright, other than that, I hope you enjoy! I'll be posting a new chapter every day so if you're interested, don't forget to follow!

* * *

 **Chapter 1**  
Lady Storm

Lexa woke up to the roar of Rhaegal, echoing around her. It wasn't close, though, but far above her, and softer than it would have been if he'd been near her. She must have been inside. The comfortable bed and warm, soft covers above her denoted the same situation. Why was she inside? The last thing she remembered was hunting a rather large group of bandits in the Westerlands. Was she already back home to King's Landing? No, there was something foreign about all of this, she could feel it even with her eyes closed.

It took her quite some time to finally open her eyes. The light was dim, only a small window illuminating inside. Though it wasn't very necessary, the fireplace across the room was lit. Lexa wondered for a second whether she'd been captured, but no, no bandit king, as they liked to call themselves, would treat her with such comfort, not after capturing the heir to the Seven Kingdoms.

She only had to look to her right to know where she was. There was a young woman seating beside her, looking at her with relief. A flicker of fear passed through her gorgeous blue eyes but disappeared almost instantly. Her blond hair was loose, with two small braids running along the crown of her head. Lexa had heard stories from her mother's khalasar – hers now technically, but she never thought of it as such – about the Night Land, where the dead ride the plains for eternity. She thought when her time would come, her father would be there to greet her, her mother too maybe. But perhaps she wasn't as much a Dothraki as she would like to be, and the Seven had taken her instead, bringing her to the Seven Heavens. How else could the presence of such a beautiful woman beside her bed be explained?

"Your Grace?"

She looked at the blonde when she heard her title. Her eyes were getting used to reality once again. She wasn't dead, then. She could feel the many bandages on her leg and arms. She must have taken quite the beating to have fallen unconscious. This, she imagined, was what happened when you went to war with a clouded mind. She weighed her options, but finally decided to ask:

"Where am I?"

"Clegane's Keep, Your Grace."

Lexa nodded. Clegane's Keep was close to where she remembered the bandits had been regrouping. She'd probably been taken there after she'd fainted.

"What happened?"

Lexa tried to sit down, and even though her muscles were tense and her arms painful she managed to heave herself against the wooden headboard. The blonde beside her extended her hands, though she wasn't sure whether she should be stopping her or helping her. Once Lexa was once again settled, she returned to her more humbled position. Lexa took this opportunity to inspect her clothes. Highborn, probably, as she wore a fine dark blue dress which seemed wrapped around the blond, with a leather belt around her waist. Lexa, however, remembered her lessons well. Clegane's Keep only had two potential heirs, both of which were sons.

"Your Unsullied soldiers found you unconscious on the ground, Your Grace. Our maester said you took a blow to the head. Your dragon protected you until they found you, apparently, burning anyone who would come near."

Lexa couldn't help but smile. Out the window, she heard another roar. Rhaegal was happy, his sister was alive. Her attention returned to the blonde who was still looking at her and waiting.

"I suppose I must be quite wounded?" Lexa asked, though she already knew the answer. She just wanted to hear the girl talk.

"You took a blow to the head, Your Grace, and multiple cuts on your arms, plus a rather deep one on your leg."

As the blonde talk, Lexa began to remember the fight. There were at least twenty bandits, and the Unsullied had yet to catch up with Rhaegal and her. She'd thought twenty would be easy, she'd faced worst. She remembered taking a few cuts on her arms. Rhaegal was fighting by her side, with the authorization to use fire only in dire situations. She didn't want to burn down the whole Westerlands just to catch a few thieves. The cut to the leg had come when a bandit had managed to sneak his way behind her, while she was fending off four others. He had only lived long enough to cut her calf before Rhaegal had bitten the upper half of his body clean off. The blow to the head, however, she couldn't quite remember. Probably given to her with a rock or a tree branch, because with any other blunt weapon she could think off she probably wouldn't be here anymore.

"And they asked you to watch over me?"

"Yes, Your Grace. Our maester has been quite occupied, tending to the people left wounded by the bandits."

Lexa smirked:

"Of course, a maester has more priority than tending to the heir to the Iron Throne."

The blonde seemed confused for a second, uncertain, but Lexa's eyes found hers and she saw a spark of amusement dancing among the emerald green of her irises.

"It was a joke, by the way. Lord Tyrion says I should relax more, and make jokes more often, but I still haven't quite gotten the hang of it."

At that, the blonde finally smiled, which made Lexa's heart flutter happily.

"So, are you to be my handmaiden while I stay?"

"I am, Your Grace."

She cleared her throat, as if unsure before she introduced herself:

"I am Clarke Storm, Your Grace."

The name clicked in Lexa's mind, and she finally understood Tyrion's insistence on her knowing every member of every house of the Seven Kingdoms, no matter how long that list may be. Clarke was the bastard daughter of Lady Abigail Connington, from Griffin's Roost, in the Stormlands. Right after the end of Winter's War, she'd married the new lord of Clegane's Keep, Lord Kane, a widowed man with already two children, a son and a bastard daughter of his own. Together they had a son, though his name escaped Lexa at the moment. And this was how a Storm had ended up in the Westerlands.

"Well, Lady Clarke, if you wouldn't mind sending my Commander for me, I must give my instructions to the Unsullied before I rest. And also have a raven sent to King's Landing. Make sure the Lord Hand knows I'm not to be mourned yet," she added with a smile.

Clarke stood up, bowing before she walked toward the door. Lexa's gaze wouldn't leave her back. Clarke stopped at the door, her hand almost on the handle, but turn around to face the brunette:

"I am not a Lady, Your Grace."

"I know, but I won't stop calling you so anyway."

* * *

Clarke exited the room but waited until she was far enough from the two Unsullied keeping the door to let out a breath. She quickly walked toward the maester's room, to let him know the Princess was awake. She gave one last look toward the door before she rounded the corner and sighed once again. Her mother had warned her to be polite and respectful, and to let her know if the Princess had been offended by her presence in any way. She was used to people being offended by now, of whispered behind her back, how her Lady mother and her Lord husband made no difference in raising their true-born sons and bastard daughters. But not only had the Princess not been offended at all, she called her a Lady, and said she would continue to do so. Really, she was something else.

Clarke suddenly understood why they called her the Green Dragon. Any person who'd never met her would say it was because she rode on a green dragon, which was true, but Clarke understood now that it probably had more to do with her eyes. How green and pretty they were. Her smile had warmed up something in her chest and Clarke feared what it may be more than she'd feared to stay in the Princess' room.  
She'd been so caught up in her thoughts she hadn't even heard someone calling from her.

"Clarke!"

It was only when Octavia came to a stop beside her that she stopped walking altogether to look at her sister. Though they had no blood in common, no one understood her better than Octavia Hill, Lord Kane's bastard daughter. She wanted to be a knight, part of the Queensguard, and even though her father had allowed her to learn how to fight as if she had been his son, and even dress like one, he had yet to allow her to leave Clegane's Keep, even for a tourney.

"How is she?"

"Oh, she's awake. She wants me to find her Commander and send a raven for her."

Octavia groaned and followed as Clarke began to walk again.

"That's not what I meant and you know it! How is she? They say she's the best fighter in Westeros. She defeated Brienne of Tarth when she was only twelve and you can only join her Queensguard by besting her in single combat."

Clarke could hear the pure awe in Octavia's voice.

"Well, I don't know about that but Brienne of Tarth has been quite wounded since Winter's War, so it wouldn't surprise me if she'd bested her. However, I don't believe she'll be doing a lot of fighting any time soon, not with her leg anyway."

Octavia seemed to consider things for a second before she declared:

"This may be my chance then."

"Of what?"

"Besting her in combat! Become a member of the Queensguard!"

Clarke held onto her thoughts. Octavia may have been a bastard, but she was hound nonetheless, always finding her enemy's weakness and exploiting it.

"Maybe you should ask your father first, and give the Princess a bit of recovery time, don't you think?"

She shrugged.

"Maybe. But right now I need to find Bellamy. I need to train."

She turned around and ran back toward the inside court, where Bellamy and the master of arms were probably training their little brother Aden. Clarke continued on her way, trying to think as little as possible about that heat in her chest which just wouldn't go away.

* * *

Clarke had carried out the missions the Princess had given her, before helping the maester with the wounded who'd arrived at their castle earlier in the day. Now that it was almost time for supper, she'd been sent back to the Princess' chamber, to change her bandages and see if she needed anything. Though Clarke's initial thought was to also bring her something to eat, she was glad she'd thought it unsanitary when she found the door to the Princess' room unguarded. She frowned and knocked on the door.

"Your Grace?"

She knocked again, but still, no answer.

"May I come in?"

When no words came she tentatively opened the door. The room was dark and empty, the fireplace almost extinguished and the last rays of the sun barely filtering through the small window. One thing was for sure, the dragon was still above them, as she could hear its roar even from inside. Clarke sighed and went in search of her patient.

She wasn't a full-fledged healer, and far from a maester, obviously, so maybe she should not use that word to describe the Princess, but she was tending to her wounds nonetheless. Well, she should be, but since she hadn't found her yet she was still walking around with everything she needed to take care of the brunette.

She asked around to everyone she encountered, feeling foolish every time as most people looked her in confusion. Wasn't the Princess wounded and in the chambers? If she was, Clarke stopped herself from replying, she was damn good at playing hide and seek.

Finally, just as she was rounding the corner on the western side of the Keep, she found two Unsullied keeping watch at the bottom of the tower, with small steps slithering to the top of the Keep, to where most archers would stand in case of an attack – not that Clarke had ever seen it happen, but that's what Octavia had excitedly explained to her when she was seven and had first arrived at Clegane's Keep. Tentatively, Clarke approached the stairs, her eyes never leaving the Unsullied. Finally, she cleared her throat and asked:

"Is the Princess up there?"

One of the Unsullied nodded, his helmet slightly sliding forward.

"The Princess is with her dragon," he explained with a thick accent.

Clarke nodded.

"I need to make sure she's okay. Can I go up?"

Once again the Unsullied nodded.

"Princess says you can."

Clarke frowned and thank him, half confused as to why the Princess would allow her to follow her up. She walked passed the two soldiers and marched up the stairs. The sound of her feet echoed around her, but the higher she climbed the more it was replaced by the sounds of a roaring dragon, and words in a tongue she couldn't understand.

She emerged into the sunset air, one hand still holding a fistful of cloth for the Princess' bandages. She was indeed on top of one of the guards' tower, barely large enough to allow a full grown dragon to sit on it. The sun was setting behind them, turning the dragon's green scale dark but illuminating the bronze ones, making them shine like a sea of golden coins, the light dancing on the creature's body. Lexa looked ridiculously small beside it. She was standing beside one of its massive wings and was petting its head, which was as large as her. Clarke was stunned, not only to see this incredible exchange between a ferocious beast and a woman but also to see Lexa standing on her legs like she hadn't been wounded the same morning.

The dragon roared when it noticed Clarke by the exit of the stairs, and Lexa looked at her. Clarke took a deep breath. She was a Storm, she didn't fear dragons. She came from the Connington family, they never feared dragons, they used to be their friends.

"Your Grace, you shouldn't be out of bed." she declared.

Lexa smirked, but never left Rhaegal's side.

"I wanted to make sure my brother was alright. He'd been calling for me all afternoon. Plus, he saved my life, I needed to thank him."

Her hand came to scratch under its chin, and Clarke could have sworn she heard it purr. All of its dorsal spikes were happily moving and stretching, and it closed its massive eyes.

"Have you ever seen a dragon before, my Lady?" Lexa wondered.

"Not from this close, Your Grace. I saw them flying over Griffin's Roost, once, when I was younger. Over King's Landing too, but never from this close."

Lexa smiled.

"Rhaegal can be nice when he wants to. He doesn't like strangers much. Viserion was the one who liked hugs the most. Drogon only allows people with Targaryen blood near him or people my mother told him not to eat."

Clarke watched for some time, as the sun set behind them, and Lexa continued to pet her dragon as if he were a dog. She reminded her of Bellamy when they were younger, how he used to pet the hounds in the kennel like they were puppies, not monster trained to kill. But Clarke had tried not to be afraid of the hounds then, and she would not be afraid of a dragon now.

"I'm sorry You Grace, but you need to return to your room. You won't be able to heal properly if you keep walking around."

Clarke was afraid for a second that her words would be taken for an order, but Lexa only smirked and finally let go of her dragon. She whispered something to it, in a language Clarke couldn't understand and began limping towards the blonde.

"I apologize once again, my Lady. Please, take me back to my chamber."

Clarke took most of the Princess' weight on her shoulder, passing her arm around her. Rhaegal roared once again behind them, though it sounded less sad than before, more powerful too. Clarke slowly helped her down the stairs and back to her room, the two Unsullied following them from a safe distance as they walked through the Keep. As soon as she'd placed her back in her bed, Lexa thanked her, once again calling her "my Lady." Clarke had heard people snickering it behind her back and mock her with the name, but no one had ever said it like the Princess, like she meant it, like Clarke deserved that title and everything which came with it.

"You're welcome." she managed before she began her work in silence.


	2. The Dragon's hand

**Chapter 2**  
The Dragon's hand

Though Lexa had been ordered – Clarke had insisted it wasn't an order but a recommendation, as she was in no position to give any order to a royal – to stay in bed and use her leg as little as possible, it didn't stop her. Rather, she could be found out of her room far more often than she should be. Her first order of business, of course, was to thank her hosts.

They were in the middle of having breakfast, the next morning after Lexa's arrival. The whole family was sat around a long and old wooden table. Lord Kane was seating at the center, Bellamy at his right and his wife at his left. Aden was seated beside his mother, while Octavia and Clarke sat side by side, on Bellamy's side. Everyone seemed excited today. Clarke tried not to be too excited because she was supposed to spend her day following the Princess or rather stopping her from leaving her bed, and she knew the thought alone should not have made her blush but she couldn't stop herself. So she looked down at her plate and stayed silent, listening to everyone else's conversations.

Kane and Bellamy were talking about going on a hunt soon, maybe the next day. Aden was excitedly asking to come with, but both of his parents were against it, saying he was too young. Of course, the ten-year-old was not pleased about it. Octavia suggested they could train together instead. Her father was obviously keeping his comments about Octavia's plans to himself.

Just as Clarke was about to excuse herself, there was a knock on the great hall's door. The Keep's maester walked in, his heavy chains tingling as he walked. He was supposed to check on the Princess this morning and make sure she feeling better.

"My Lord, my Lady, Princess Alexandria would like to speak with you."

Kane and Abigail exchanged a look, and Kane put his fork down.

"Should I go to her chamber?" he asked, unsure.

"No need, My Lord." a voice declared from behind the maester.

The old man stepped aside, and Lexa limped inside, without anyone's support. Clarke straightened her back and tried not to glare too much at the Princess. She seemed to notice, however, and only smiled at her.

Lexa walked until she was standing in a foot from the table, standing with barely a hint of pain running through her body.

"My Lord, My Lady, I would like to thank you for your hospitality."

Lord Kane nodded.

"I should be the one thanking you, Your Grace. You and your people have been far more effective than mine, and soon our land will be safe once more, thanks to you."

"My mother swore to serve and protect the people of this land, and I intend to uphold that vow. I have sent out my Unsullied. They will finish the work while I stay here and recover. With your permission, of course."

"You are welcome to stay for as long as you would like, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Lord Kane. Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to my chamber and rest before Lady Clarke drags me to bed herself," she added with a smirk, directing her gaze toward the blonde for a second before turning around and limping out of the room.

The maester moved forward and tried to help her, but she waved him off, declaring she knew the way back, and the door of the great hall was closed once again. All eyes suddenly turned to Clarke who felt her cheeks grow red.

"Did she just call you Lady Clarke?" Octavia wondered, confused.

"I told her to stop, she doesn't want to. It's not like I can make her."

Bellamy couldn't hide his smirk, just like Octavia.

"But you're pretty good at bringing her to bed, apparently."

"Children," Abigail warned, as beside her Aden seemed more and more confused.

Bellamy, however, didn't listen:

"You know what they say about her? That half of the maidens of King's Landing are no longer maidens because of her."

"Bellamy!" Abigail declared, offended.

"Yes, please, Bellamy, don't offend our guessed while she's here," Kane added.

The young man shrugged. Clarke felt her cheeks grow even redder. She was torn between staying here and let everyone make stupid comments, or leave now and probably suffer even more dubious comment from her half-siblings later.

"Can I be excused? I have to keep the Princess in bed, apparently."

Both Kane and Abigail nodded, and Clarke pushed herself away from the table, ignoring Bellamy and Octavia snickering behind her back.

* * *

In the following days, Clarke found herself torn between her duty – keeping an eye on the Princess – and her heart – staying as far away from the Princess as possible, because nothing good could come of spending so much time near her. But since the Princess had decided to be good and stay in her bed the first few days, she'd had little reasons to stay by her side. Plus, the heir to the Iron Throne was a grown woman of near eighteen years of age, she didn't need a babysitter.

This particular morning, however, after finding her chamber empty, Clarke couldn't help but worry. She checked the guard tower but found that not even Rhaegal was standing there. It took her quite a bit of wandering around to finally find the Princess.

Lexa had been seating in the garden, on a stone bench, her eyes on the flowers blooming in the trees above her. The garden was small, a small enclosed space on the western side of the Castle, just a small patch of land with a few trees and bushes, nothing pretty by any means. But Lexa hated being stuck indoors. She believed she probably took after her father on that part. Staying still for too long made her feel hollow, and staying inside made her feel caged. It reminded her of when her dear brothers had been trapped too, under the Great Pyramid of Meereen. She hated it then and she still hated it now, and she was a dragon as much as them. Nothing could keep a dragon caged for long. But someone, maybe.

She turned her head when she heard footsteps coming her way. It was Clarke. She smiled and waited until the blonde was standing in front of her to declared:

"I knew you'd find me."

"Is it some kind of game to you? Making me run around the Keep until I find you?"

"Nothing of the sort, my Lady. I just needed some fresh air. I thought my legs would wither if I didn't take the time to stretch them."

"Have you stretched your legs enough now, Your Grace?"

Lexa shook her head and stood up. It took more time than necessary as her leg protested, but she pushed past the pain with an almost scaring ease. Had she been wounded so often now that her body was almost immune to pain?

"Actually, I would like to walk some more. Would you like to come with me, My Lady?"

Clarke hesitated for a second. What had happened to stay away from the Princess? But still, how could she refused the invitation when Lexa was holding her head out for her to take. How could she say no, when a simple word as 'my lady' had made her heart flutter? She placed her hand on Lexa's arm and replied:

"I would, Your Grace."

They took a first step, then a second, falling into a slow rhythm soon enough.

"And please, call me Lexa. No need for formalities, I haven't even been crowned yet."

Clarke frowned.

"Are you sure?"

Lexa nodded with a smile.

"Yes. Lexa was how my mother called me. It is how my siblings call me. How most of my mother's friends call me to. I guess it is time for me to make friends to call me by my nickname as well."

Clarke could feel the heat of Lexa's skin, even through her thin leather shirt.

"As you wish, Lexa. But you have to stop calling me a lady. I'm a bastard."

Lexa shook her head and protested quickly:

"Never let your birth limit you in this life, or the next. My siblings' father died before he could marry my mother. Does it make them any less entitled to the throne than me? I doubt it. If anything, they are better prepared for it than I ever was."

Clarke looked at the brunette with a strange awe. She remembered her mother telling her as a child how she should never let people mistreat her just because she was a Storm, and she'd lived by that truth every day, no matter how hard it sometimes seemed. But Lexa was something else. She believed she could live by more than her station, how the name Storm should not stop her from doing everything she wanted. Really, Lexa would make an incredible ruler, soon.

"May I ask, why haven't you been crowed yet?"

Lexa smirked, mysterious. There was a glint in her green eyes which made Clarke's brain stop functioning altogether, for less than a second. Her next thought was a whisper in her mind, telling her Lexa was not from this world.

"What do you think? Why haven't I been crowned yet?"

Clarke shrugged, unsure. She found Lexa's eyes wouldn't leave her own, and it made her heart beat slightly faster in her chest.

"I don't know. Perhaps you have to be wed before you can take the crown?"

Lexa laughed. It was a strange sound, so foreign to Clarke's ears. Like Lexa should not laugh, not because it didn't sound right or beautiful, but on the contrary, because it rivaled with some of the most beautiful sounds in this land, and it made Clarke want to smile uncontrollably. Lexa's laugh was a spell, and Clarke had fallen victim to it wholeheartedly.

"Could be. Lord Tyrion has been insisting more and more that I should marry someone from one of the great Houses, make a strong alliance."  
"Then why haven't you?"

Lexa seemed to be standing closer to her now, though she didn't remember when she'd come so close, close enough that she could feel more heat radiating over her entire right side.

"Well, let's see. First, there's the North. The only male heir would be Lord Bran, but his mind is always somewhere else, never quite there. He wouldn't make for a good husband. Not because he's a cripple, but because his mind soars so far even I couldn't keep up on Rhaegal's back. Of course, I could always wed Lady Stark."

The thought alone made Clarke blush.

"But she has had eyes on another for many years now, one she could never have."

Lexa's other hand came to rest on Clarke's arm, and Clarke felt her heart stop completely in her chest, until it started again, twice as fast as before.  
"Than, there's the Riverlands. Lord Tully's son is far too young for me, maybe we could wed him to my sister, but I wouldn't advise it yet. I want to see how the boy turns out first. The Eyrie? Lord Robin would be an even worst husband than Brandon Stark, I'm afraid. He's weak, easy to manipulated and easier to offend. He's a boy in a grown man's body, listening to the first bird who would come to whisper in his ear. He's not a falcon he's... well.. a robin, if you'll excuse my joke. He'd make a good husband if you want someone easy to get rid of, but not a King."

Clarke listened, enraptured by every word coming out of Lexa's lips. She tried not to look too much at her lips, but she found it was hard as Lexa continued her expose:

"The Westerlands still belong to Tyrion Lannister, and since it seems he will have no heir to leave it to, it should fall in the hands of the Lannisters of Lannisport soon enough. But Lord Tyrion did advise strongly that should not marry a Lannister, and I agree."

Lexa seemed to slow down slightly, her leg aching. But after a breath, she was back to walking, still holding Clarke close. Before the blonde could even ask whether she wanted to stop and rest, she continued:

"The Reach has now fallen in the hands of Margaery Tyrell. The last Golden Flower of Highgarden, they call her, hidden in the North for most of my mother's conquest. It seems three dead husbands and a burning scare has made potential suitors run away from her. She too has eyes on someone whom she could never get."

Clarke frowned.

"Who?"

Lexa wagged her eyebrows.

"Who do you think?"

Things seemed to connect in Clarke's mind.

"She and Lady Stark?"

Lexa nodded.

"It is a badly kept secret. They love each other, but they can never be together. Their senses of duty for their houses are too strong, they'd rather die than surrender their houses to live together. Neither of them can make that sacrifice, so they stay in this strange in between, loving each other from afar."

Clarke couldn't help but sigh.

"It's quite sad."

"It is. It is a fate I would never wish on anybody. But it isn't like we can do anything about it either."

Clarke felt a pang in her chest. This was the fate she feared most, she realized. The walls around her heart were coming undone, taken apart by the Green Dragon. How long before the brunette got to her heart, and how long before she left, and flew back to King's Landing with it? She pushed the thoughts as far away from her mind as possible.

"The Stormlands. They have been given back to the Baratheons, to thank Lord Gendry for his services during Winter's War. He is married now, to one of your cousins, if I remember correctly. His children are also far too young for me. And Dorne. Or rather, the mountain of black powder that is Dorne. Since the fall of the Martells, the noble Houses of Dornes have been in a strange state of unrest. A civil war should have come ages ago to determine a new ruler, but not a single house has dared to make a move yet. It is quite strange, such a calm state, especially coming from the Dornish."

Lexa smiled and came to a stop. They were back at the bench where they'd started.

"So tell me, Lady Clarke. Who should I marry then?"

Clarke was silent for a long minute. She tried to push that little voice shouting 'Chose me, please, I can be yours if you want me'. She hated that voice, as much as she hated herself for losing her mind every time she looked into Lexa's eyes. She'd never been one to fawn over knights in shiny armor and tales of bravery, and this sudden urge for love was terrifying her.

"How about someone from a smaller house?"

Lexa nodded.

"A wise choice. More sons to pick from. It would anger the great Houses, however."

"So, what have you decided, then?"

"Nothing so far."

Lexa turned around, letting go of Clarke's arm. She took a step toward the nearest bush of roses and picked one, careful not to prick herself. She then turned back to the blonde and handed her the flower delicately.

"But I promise, you will be the first to know when I finally settle my mind."


	3. Blood of my Blood

**Chapter 3**  
Blood of my Blood

Clarke was in the courtyard, watching with her mother all the progress Aden had made with a sword. Since Lexa was feeling better by the day and had never listened to her advice on staying in bed for more than an hour, she'd stopped monitoring the brunette all the time. Which was for the best, considering that she couldn't be near the Princess without feeling like a fire had ignited in her chest. She blamed Lexa through and through. She was the reason Clarke was feeling so weird, to begin with.

Aden was fighting against Bellamy, who was at least twice his size but made up for it by going easy on the boy. The ten-year-old was fighting his older sibling with all he had, visibly trying to remember his lessons with each motion of his sword. Octavia was standing on the side, trying to look impressed. She'd done nothing but train ever since Lexa had arrived, but she'd yet to approach the Princess and ask for a dual.

Her mind wandered back to Lexa once again, and she cursed herself for it. She wondered how good of a fighter she really was. Had the rumors been true? She'd heard all sorts of things recently, mostly from Octavia herself. How she'd first learn how to hold a sword when she was three. How at age six she was already better than most Westerosi knights. That famous dual against Brienne of Tarth came back a few times. Octavia also seemed to believe the Princess' blood was magical, that was how she managed to recuperate so quickly. Whether it was true or not, Clarke couldn't help but be impressed when, nearly a fortnight after her injury, Lexa was walking around Clegane's Keep with barely a limp in her steps.

Clarke managed to focus once again on the fight when the sound of clashing steel became almost deafening. Aden had put all his strength in his last swing and had pushed Bellamy's sword out of his hand. The dark-haired man had either not anticipated so much strength coming from his younger brother, or had done it on purpose. By the look on his face, the former was probably the truth, although anyone who asked would have to take the latter version as truth. As the training sword clattered on the ground, Octavia and Abigail began to clap. Clarke quickly followed, but nearly stopped when she heard another clap join theirs.  
Lexa was standing on the first landing of the stairs, looking down on the fighting ground. She stopped clapping and walked down, joining them there. Everyone seemed either slightly confused about the Princess' presence as if they'd forgotten she had been in the Keep for more than two weeks now. Lexa came to stand beside the two boys and smiled down at Aden.

"You're a very talented fighter, Lord Aden. You might make a great knight someday."

The lack of irony or condescending tone in her voice seemed to surprise the boy, who took a few seconds before he smiled and replied:

"Thank you, Your Grace."

She nodded, still looking at him, then looked up at Bellamy.

"I must admit I haven't used a training sword in quite some time, but it should do. How about a dual, Lord Bellamy? I could use some training."

Bellamy was both very surprised and unsure for a good minute, his eyes darting between Lexa, Octavia, Clarke, Abigail, and finally returning to Lexa.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace, but I don't believe I would be a very good match against you. If you'd like, Octavia is a much better fighter than me."

She didn't question him, only looked over at Octavia who's excitement had suddenly been replaced by a nervous fright. Clarke could almost see her hand shaking on her handle of her sword.

"So, what do you say? Are you as good a fighter as your brother tells me?"

Clarke could see the determination shining in Octavia's eyes as she moved to stand closer to Lexa. Bellamy gave a meaningful look to Aden and they both walked away, coming to stand near Clarke and Abigail. Octavia began to play with her sword, making it turn in her hand to warm up her wrist.

"I'm better, actually."

Lexa picked up Bellamy's training sword, left on the ground, and smirked:

"Then show me."

* * *

Clarke had seen Octavia fight many times. The fact that she was usually smaller and looked weaker than her opponent had never stopped her, not once. But Clarke also realized something. They were about the same size, Lexa barely a few inches taller, and they looked to be the same strength, though Clarke guessed Lexa must have been stronger. Octavia was not used to fighting that kind of opponents.

Still, Octavia struck first, raising her sword high and hitting down on Lexa. The Princess stepped aside, and Octavia's blade struck the sandy ground with a puff of dust. Clarke had barely seen her move, but a quick glance at her face told her what she needed to know. Lexa was paying the cost of her speed and agility, and the fact that her teeth were clenched had nothing to do with her focus, but rather with the pain probably raking her body. Still, she attacked.

She swept her sword on Octavia's side and the other girl barely had time to parry, the blow forcing her to take a step back. Lexa attacked again, her sword dancing from one side of her opponent to the next. Octavia tried her best, but when she felt the cold iron of the blade against her hipbone she knew she'd lost. Lexa stepped back, bringing the sword behind her back.

"Please, don't hold your strength on my account."

Octavia only glared at her and prepared herself. Once again, she attacked first, with a horizontal strike this time. Lexa avoided it easily, her sword still behind her. Clarke watched, fascinated. Lexa was swift and nimble, untouchable like the wind. She avoided every strike with grace, and there was an inner strength shining through every small jab she took at her enemy. Truly, Lexa was dancing, there was no other way to put it. Dancing around Octavia with a practiced ease, like she'd done it many times before. Octavia was visibly becoming more and more frustrated, her blade never once grazing Lexa. It came close, once or twice, and once or twice Lexa had to parry a blow rather than side-step it, but Clarke guessed it had more to do with her injury than with Octavia finally getting the better of her.

Octavia's blows became more erratic, less controlled. She grunted with every strike she threw her opponent's way. She had barely moved since their fight had begun, turning to follow Lexa around her but never taking more than a step away from her initial position. Truly, Lexa had her in her claws and there was nothing Octavia could do to get out of them.

After Lexa avoided a particularly strong attack which let Octavia completely open, Lexa struck her side with the flat of her sword. Nothing too harmful, but enough to anger Octavia even more. She attempted another attack, and this time Lexa parried it. With a twist of her blade, she disarmed Octavia, her sword falling to the ground. Clarke could see the desperation in her sister's eyes, saw her ready to plug for the weapon if Lexa's blade hadn't come to rest near her throat.

Clarke then realized how silent the courtyard had fallen, like everyone near the training ground had stopped to watch the dual, and they were all still stunned to see the Heir to the Iron Throne besting the Keep's best sword-fighter with ease, while she was recuperating from a leg injury no less. Clarke stared longly at Lexa. She wasn't smug about her victory. She was tired, like Octavia, but she was better at hiding it. She let her sword down as her chest fell, taking deep, leveled breath while Octavia was panting like a mad dog after a hunt. While Octavia was still hunched over, taking in as much air as she could, Lexa glanced at her Clarke. Their eyes met, and Lexa smiled. Clarke had a strange thought then, something which seemed unlikely to the highest level. Had Lexa done all of this just to impress her?

Finally, when Octavia seemed to be feeling a bit better, Lexa walked up to her.

"You're a very good fighter, Octavia. You're only problem is you've been trained by Westerosi knights."

Octavia looked up, confused. She could easily guess by the way the Princess moved that she'd received a very particular kind of training.

"If your ambitions are such, I could recommend you to a great fighter, in Winterfell. She could teach you how to fight, really fight. And who knows, perhaps one day we'll meet again, and this time I'll be the one bested."

She glanced one last time at Clarke. Her words had not been quiet by any means, and Clarke could already see their effects on Octavia. She was suddenly standing straighter, prouder like she hadn't just lost a dual against the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. Lexa let the sword she was still holding on the ground and walked away, her gaze only leaving Clarke when she was out of her sight.

* * *

Later that day, Clarke found herself wandering the garden once again. She could see the end of a green and bronze wing if she looked up toward the west. Lexa was with her brother, and so Clarke had taken it as an excuse to run and hide. News of the Unsullied's return had spread through the Castle as good news. It meant the bandits roaming the Westerlands were no more. But to Clarke, it meant Lexa would soon return to King's Landing, and she didn't know what to feel about it. Which was the reason why she had been roaming the garden, to try and make sense of everything. The way her heart fluttered every time Lexa was near. The way her stomach flipped upside down whenever their hands grazed each other. Her hands became sweaty just thinking about it.  
Of course, she wasn't blind. She may have never felt those feelings before, but she knew what they meant. Trouble. Falling for the heir to the Iron Throne, a woman no less, when she was a bastard from the Stormlands could mean nothing but trouble. Her mind was telling her to stay away from the brunette because it was the only way to get over this silly affection. Her heart, however, was screaming at her how she could never be away from the Princess again, not without losing herself too. It was terrifying. The swiftness with which she'd fallen, and the fact that there seemed to be no coming back from it. It was an abyss with no end in sight, and nothing but Lexa to keep her from breaking apart.

She needed to talk to someone about it, she knew, but who? Lexa was completely out of the question. She was at least fifty percent sure the brunette felt the same way as she did. If she was right, it only meant more trouble for the both of them. And if she was wrong, well, she didn't dare to even imagine that situation. Her mother? It would be a catastrophe. She could only imagine the worsts of scenarios because there probably wasn't a best case this time. Her mother was a logical person. The few times she'd thought with her heart had led to, well, her birth. She would tell her to stay away. Actually, the more she thought about it the more the voice in her head did begin to sound like her mom.

Bellamy and Aden were off the list instantly. Kane was never even considered. Which left her with only one person whom she could talk to, and it would have never been her first choice if it wasn't the only one. Not that Octavia wasn't a good listener, but she was an even better gossiper. She could keep a secret but the cost was high. But who knew? Maybe she would feel inclined to help now that she'd gotten what she wanted.

* * *

She left the garden in search of her sister. Octavia was not on the training ground, as she would have expected. She was not in her room either, which was a problem. Nowhere near the blacksmith or the armory, or in the kitchens, or in the kennel where she liked to hang out. She did found Bellamy taking care of his most trusted hound, probably preparing him for a hunt. Bellamy told her he had seen Octavia going to their father's office.

Clarke hurried there, knowing Octavia would probably not stay in the same place for long, and arrived just in time to see her sister walking out of the room, a big satisfied smile on her lips.

"Octavia!" she called her.

The younger girl looked over at her and her smiled widened.

"Clarke! You won't believe what just happened!"

Clarke quickly walked up to her and declared:

"I need to speak with you too."

Octavia followed her, though she didn't seem to have heard what Clarke had said. Instead, she began to happily explain:

"Father says he'll speak with the Princess, but he's okay for me to go to Winterfell! I'm going to become a master swordswoman and then I'll be knighted and join the Queensgard!"

Clarke tried not to think too much about what Octavia had told her, because it meant Octavia would leave and she wouldn't have anyone to speak to anymore, not about the important things anyway.

Soon enough they reached Clarke's room and she pulled Octavia inside, closing the door carefully behind them. Octavia seemed confused as she looked back at Clarke, who's nervousness had grown tenfolds since she'd found the younger girl.

"Promise me you will not repeat what I'm about to tell you."

Octavia crossed her arms.

"What, is it serious? Did the Princess kiss you or something?"

Clarke was shocked, but she felt her cheeks grow red. So she wasn't the only to think Lexa was trying to woo her? The blonde's reaction told Octavia everything she needed to know. She held in a laughter by placing a hand on her mouth.

"Seven Hells, she did!"

"What, no! I haven't seen her since she kicked your ass!"

Octavia gasped.

"She hasn't kissed you, but you wish she had!"

Clarke shushed her quickly.

"Not so loud, please!"

Octavia couldn't help but giggle.

"Oh, you so wish she had!" she whisper-shouted.

Clarke could feel her entire face growing red.

"What if I have?"

"You need to tell her! Father says he'll organize a feast in two days before she leaves. You need to tell her."

"I can't! What if she rejects me, or worst, what if she feels the same?"

Octavia shook her head. Her sister really was daft sometimes.

"She won't. It's very obvious she wants you in her bed. Also, can you imagine? The Princess and heir to the Iron Throne with a bastard girl? That'll be a story for the ages!"

"Well I'm glad you find it amusing, but I don't. At all."

Octavia took a deep breath and placed a hand on Clarke's shoulder.

"But seriously, tell her, before she leaves, because then it would be too late and I don't want to see you spend the rest of your life regretting you stayed silent."


	4. Moon of my Life

**Chapter 4**  
Moon of my Life

Clarke wished she'd followed Octavia's advice, but every time she tried, every chance she got, the words got stuck in her throat. And so she watched as Lexa prepared for her departure, and she followed her around like a puppy, eager to please because otherwise, she felt useless. But every time Lexa looked at her, every time she smiled at her, she felt the ground disappearing under her feet, she felt herself falling even more.

The feast in the Princess' honor had brought most of the Westerland's Houses together in Clegane's Keep. The Lannisters had sent an emissary, as had most of the Houses who were too far to make the trip in two days. Kane kept insisting he would have delayed the feast for them to be here, but the Princess needed to return to King's Landing as she had other urgent matters to attend to.

The head table was full. With Kane and Abigail at the center, Lexa on Kane's side and Bellamy beside her. Clarke wondered for a second whether Kane was attempting something with this seating arrangement, but less than ten minutes into the feast it became quite clear that Lexa didn't care at all about Bellamy charming smile. Beside Bellamy was the delegation from Lannisport, the Lord's brother as well as his son and nephew. The two boys were around Bell's age. One of them was leering at Clarke from the other side of the table and she was desperately trying to ignore him, but he was on the same side as Lexa and it was hard to glance at her without having to glare at him first. She was on her mother's side of the table, with Aden and Octavia. The two young women were usually sat together at the end of the table, but tonight she wished they weren't because Octavia kept hitting her with her elbow and whispering to her between her teeth how she should go and see the Princess.

Clarke had decided to focus on her plate, and ignore everything and everyone around her, but she couldn't even muster enough appetite to eat. Her stomach was twisting nervously, in what she'd first taken for a languished knot, her regrets stuffing her and preventing her from eating. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized it was anticipation as if her body knew something was going to happen before it even happened.

She must have lost herself in her thoughts, thinking about that nervous knot, because she only realized she'd been poking at her food since Kane's speech when she heard someone clearing their throat beside her. She pursed her lips and placed her fork back on the table before looking at the person beside her. She really hoped it wasn't the Lannister boy. Her eyes met emerald green and suddenly she wished it was the Lannister boy.

Lexa was standing as straight as usual, her hands behind her back, with a gentle smile on her face.

"Lady Clarke, may I talk to you for a minute?"

Clarke exchanged a glance with Octavia who was barely holding in a smile, then looked to her mother who was talking to Kane and hadn't seemed to notice Lexa's presence.

"Sure."

She quickly stood up, suddenly afraid her legs would give up on her, but she managed to step away from the table and follow Lexa out the door, and into the empty corridors of the Keep. All the torches were lit and seemed to guide their way as they walked side by side. They were so close their arms were almost brushing and yet Clarke had never felt so far from her.

They walked in silence until they were far enough that neither of them could hear the singing and laughter coming from the feast. Finally, Lexa explained:

"I wanted to talk to you before I left."

Clarke was about to reply how she wanted to as well, but instead, her eager mind took control and she asked:

"What about?"

Lexa looked down, suddenly looking nervous. Well, as nervous as Clarke had ever seen her. A bit of her confidence seemed to have shattered in her presence, and Clarke could feel her heart bitting quicker at the realization.

"This fortnight in your company has been a pleasure, my Lady."

Clarke was trying to understand what Lexa meant and decipher her every word, but the blood rushing in her temples made everything harder to hear. Finally, Lexa stopped walking altogether. She looked up, first in Clarke's eyes before her gaze settled on her lips.

"What are you trying to say?" Clarkes asked, wondering whether she should start rejoicing now or if she was reading to much into this.

"Clarke, I'm afraid to leave this Keep because it would mean leaving you behind, and I don't want to. Would you... would you come to King's Landing with me?"

Clarke was stunned for a long minute. Lexa was asking her to come with her to the capital because she could not bear to be away from her anymore? Was she understanding it right?

"I..."

Lexa seemed to sense her distress and instinctively grabbed her hand. This seemed to anchor Clarke enough for her to form a coherent thought.

"I would like to... be with you but what would I do, in King's Landing? What would I be?"

Lexa seemed thoughtful for a minute before she answered:

"Whatever you wish to be. I would do anything to please you, anything to make you happy. And if remaining here in Clegane's Keep is what makes you happy, then I'll let you be."

Clarke wondered if the tug of happiness her heart was feeling was also what had pulled the corner of her lips into a smile.

"I think, as long as you're with me, I would be happy."

Neither of them knew who took the first step, who placed their lips on the others' first, but all Clarke knew was that she'd never been gladder that the feast was keeping everyone occupied and out of the halls. Because it meant she could kiss Lexa, pulled her close and pass her hand in her braid without being interrupted.

* * *

After that, the feast had been long forgotten, as the rest of the world had been. It was just the two of them, hidden in Lexa's room, sharing their love. All forms of decency had been forgotten. There was just desperation, at the idea that this could be their first and last night, and sweetness, so much gentleness Clarke would have never thought a dragon was capable of.

The moon had already crossed most of the sky when Clarke finally came to rest in Lexa's arms, tired but happy like she'd never been before. Lexa was holding her close, her arms wrapped around her waist like she was never going to let go. They stayed silent for a long moment. Clarke wondered, amused, whether anyone had noticed their absence. Octavia had, obviously. Bellamy probably had, too, and maybe her mother after an hour or so. She tried not to think about the following morning when she would have to face them.

"Marry me."

"What?"

"I asked you to marry me."

Clarke turned in Lexa's arms so she could look at her. There was seriousness in her emerald eyes, the way her jaw was set and determinate. Clarke smiled sadly and placed a kiss on her jaw.

"I can't marry you. I'm a bastard."

"Then I'll legitimize you. Or better yet, I'll give you your own house. I don't care."

"You would do that? Give me my house?"

Lexa smiled, holding her closer.

"I told you, I would do anything to make you happy. If it's a House you want, I'll give you one."

"What would everyone else think?"

"They'll say I'm crazy. I shouldn't marry for love because it never ends well. I shouldn't marry a woman because we won't be able to produce an heir. I shouldn't marry a bastard because it doesn't do anything to help me. But I don't care. So what? You're a Storm and a woman. My mother was Stormborn too, I think she would have appreciated the irony of the situation. My brother and sister can give heirs to the throne."

Clarke stayed silent for a long moment. She rested her head against Lexa's collarbone, feeling her chest rising with each breath she took. She moved her hand until it was resting against Lexa's heart. She felt it beating under her palm. It was calming, allowed her to dream of more.

"I miss Griffin's Roost." she declared.

Lexa smiled and brushed a few strands of blond hair aside.

"I would give it to you if I could, but I doubt your family would let me."

"If you're a dragon, and I am to be your bride then I must be able to keep up with you."

Lexa tried to follow where Clarke was going, but there was only one thing she'd said which had attracted her attention.

"You would be my Queen," she explained as her finger danced over Clarke's lower back. "My Dragon Queen."

"Not a Dragon, a Griffin."

Lexa smiled.

"Is that what you want to be, a Griffin? Then I'll make you a Griffin, I promise you. Tomorrow at dawn I'll go speak to your parents, and tell them of my intent."

Clarke pushed herself up enough to kiss Lexa's lips soundly, before she returned to her initial position, her eyes never leaving the brunette's.

"And if they say no?"

"Then I'll march to war for you. But I must warn you, we Targaryens have never fared well when waging war for love. It would pain me to lose you so soon."

"I would be the one losing you," Clarke noted.

"I will make sure it never happens."

* * *

"Marriage...?"

Both Abigail and Kane were stunned. If they'd been even slightly tired from the previous night, as the feast had continued well into the night, Lexa's declaration had woken them up for sure.

"Do I understand correctly, Your Grace? You are asking for Clarke's hand?"

"That's right. I would like to take her with me to King's Landing and have us married within the fortnight, if possible. If not, I suppose a moon would have to do."

The Lord and Lady of Clegane's Keep exchanged a look. Neither of them dared to discuss this in front of the Princess. There were uncertainty and fear in both their eyes, more than there was joy to hear Clarke would become Queen. Finally, they looked back at Lexa. She was in armor, ready to leave, standing tall, the Targaryen dragon on her chest and her hair braided in a sign of victory.

"Clarke is a bastard, Your Grace." Abigail declared.

"I am fully aware of it. As soon as I've returned to King's Landing I will give her her own house, and start reconstruction on Summerhall, to give it to her, as a wedding gift."

She had been so sure of herself, so final in the way she'd spoken, that once again Kane and Abigail were left without an answer.

"You are aware of the many... problems such an alliance would cause?" Kane asked.

Lexa knew he was trying to be as tactful as possible, and asking her whether she'd considered it well. But she was ready to have this talk with Tyrion, so she told him the same thing she was going to tell her Hand soon enough:

"My Lord, I am a Targaryen and a Dothraki. My people conquer, that's what we do. We take what we want. I am fortunate enough to know, from the bottom of my heart, that Lady Clarke wants me back. No, we will not have children, but I never counted on it. When I die my sister will take the throne because it's her birthright, more than it was ever mine. Her children will rule for hundreds of years to come, not mine. But it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make if it means Clarke can be my Queen until the end of my days."

* * *

Everyone was crowding the entrance to the Keep. When the news of Clarke's departure had circulated around the castle everyone had dropped what they were doing to come say goodbye. Clarke had barely had time to pack everything she wanted to take with her. She was glad she'd never owned more than a couple of dresses, and Lexa promised her the finest of clothes would be waiting for her in King's Landing. They were both excited but in a different way.  
Lexa couldn't wait to introduce everyone to Clarke. She knew the twins would love her, so would Missandei. Tyrion would be reluctant at first, but she was sure Clarke's wit would win him over. She'd sent a raven ahead earlier in the day, even before she'd met with Lord Kane and Lady Abigail, but she feared Rhaegal would be faster than a raven.

Clarke was excited to see King's Landing and the Red Keep, but she was also worried about leaving her family behind. It wasn't like she'd had many days ahead of her to think about it. Lexa had proposed the previous evening and here they were, standing outside the Keep, her chest entrusted to the Unsullied and ready for Rhaegal to take them away.

Her family was standing by the door, and Lexa was waiting with Rheagal, just a few steps away. Waiting patiently for her to say goodbye, and join her only once she was ready. Her mother had already promised they would all come for her wedding, and Clarke had made her promise.

She kneeled in front of Aden, first, and he launched himself at her, hugging her fiercely.

"I'm going to miss you."

"Me too, little brother. Listen to everyone, alright? And continue practicing, so next time we'll see each other you can show me how good you've gotten."

He nodded, and she parted from him with a kiss on the crown of his golden head.

She moved to Bellamy next, who took her in his arms as well.

"If anything goes wrong, you send a raven and I'll be there at King's Landing in no time." he declared in her ear.

She smiled, keeping the tears in her eyes at bay, but barely.

"You're not going to start playing big brother now, not when you coward against Lexa just a few days ago."

"Send a raven to Octavia, then, but I'll be there anyway."

They parted as she let out a wet chuckle.

She moved to Octavia, who hugged her quickly before she declared:

"I'll be with you soon enough, don't worry."

Clarke could see in her brown eyes that she was telling the truth.

She moved to stand in front of Kane but found herself unsure how to proceed. He wasn't her father, but he'd taken good care of her for the past ten years, and for that she was grateful.

"Thank you for..."

Before she could finish her pulled her into a hug.

"You'll always be welcomed in Clegane's Keep."

"Thank you."

Tears were close to rolling down her cheeks, but they only began to in earnest when she came to hug her mother. Abigail held her close and told her:

"I love you."

"I know. I love you too, mom."

They moved apart, but not before Abigail had kissed Clarke's cheek. Clarke gave them all one last look before she turned around and walked toward Lexa. She tried to brush her tears away, but it didn't seem to work, not until she joined Lexa near her dragon, and Lexa removed the tears from her.

"Are you ready, Yer Jalan Atthirari Anni?"

Clarke smiled and nodded. Lexa placed a kiss on her humid cheeks and let go of her just long enough to climb on Rhaegal. She held out a hand for Clarke to take, and helped her climb atop the enormous reptile.

"I would advice you hold on tight."

Clarke did as she was instructed, hugging Lexa like she would never let her go. Rhaegal roared once, and Clarke looked back at her family once before he flew off toward her new home.

* * *

A/N: Hi guys! I hope you liked this story! Yes, this is the end, but if you want more, fear not, I'm already working on a prequel, it's just going to take me quite some time to rewatch the entire show from season 2 onwards, especially since I'm going to be pretty busy this week. So in the meantime, if you want to read something else from me, I posted a thing on Wattpad almost a month ago (I don't know how to describe it. It's not a short story but it's also the longuest prologue ever...) It's wathever. It's a fiction, it's from me, so if you like my writing style you should check it out. It's called A Wanderer's Last Quest, under the same pen name I use here, WhiteravenGreywolf, it's on Wattpad.

Alright, now I would like to thank everyone who's reviewed, followed and favortied the story, and obviously everyone who's read it till the end! So, thank you to Tsuki-HimeDarknessSamuraiYuri for leaving a review! Thank you to B00F21, Beast94, Graymar1, Morbid Crow, Silchas, Tsuki-HimeDarknessSamuraiYuri, anlef, candu and noble117 for following the story! Thank you to B00F21, Graymar1, Silchas, SupergodzillaSailorCosmos, Tsuki-HimeDarknessSamuraiYuri, anlef, candu and noble117 for favoriting the story!

Well, once again, I hope you liked the story, and I hope to see you soon!


End file.
